


Last Words You Said

by Moriavis



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2002-10-05
Updated: 2002-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry doesn't really want to take 'no' for an answer. Draco really doesn't want him to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *sighs* So many presents, so little time...*laughs* Here's the first part of the BIG present I promised Regret, The Last Words You Said. I've been working on it for ages and ages, and considering the fact that it's like, 11 pages as of now, and I don' like posting long parts, I'm splitting it! :) So here, I hope you enjoy it... Oh! And thanks to Cai for the beta--honestly, you two babes are the best. :)*sighs* I don't know how anyone can put up with this! This is so typical I could die!
> 
> ETA: This is an abandoned WIP. I posted it on AO3 to have all my stuff in one place, even the stuff that will never be finished.

Harry sighed, propping his chin on his hand as he gazed out the window. The bright blue sky was too cheerful for his gray mood, and he dragged his eyes away from the picturesque view to pillow his head on his arms.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked, looking up from _The Daily Prophet's_ Quidditch page and watching him curiously. 'Why're you so down? Cho break a date again?"

"No." Harry attempted to smile, his stomach twisting itself into knots. "It's not Cho."

"Then what is it?" Ron stood up and stretched, making his way over to the window and staring out over the green.

"I don't want to talk about it." Harry declared sourly, his voice muffled by the sleeves of his robes.

"Harry--"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron, be quiet about it!" Hermione interrupted from the other side of the common room. "If Harry doesn't want to talk about it right now, don't badger him! He'll tell us when he's ready!"

 _Oh, yeah_ , Harry thought, sinking deeper in his dark mood. _I'm never going to be ready to tell you that I'm attracted to HIM. I might as well just kill myself now, and spare Ron the trouble._

"Harry, no matter what it is, it can't be as bad as you think it is," Ron declared helpfully, a silly grin twisting his lips.

"Go play chess or something. I'm going to go flying."

"Fine! I won't try to be encouraging!" Ron threw his hands in the air and pointed to Seamus, who stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring wide like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. "I'm going to play you!"

Harry rolled his eyes and made his way to the door, bumping slightly into a glaring Seamus. "Thanks so much!" Seamus sighed as they passed each other, and Harry remained silent, shaking his head as he walked into the hallway. There had to be some suitable explanation for this--infatuations didn't just magically appear overnight, not even at Hogwarts...did they? He frowned and pondered that thought as he stepped down stairs and made his way to the Quidditch field with his broom. There had to be a logical explanation--Hermione would undoubtedly be able to find out what it was...that is, if Harry dared to tell her what was wrong.

He tilted his head up and squinted against the glare of sunlight, freezing as a figure came down from the sky. _Oh, no… not him...please..._ The gods were not favorable to Harry Potter, however, as sunlight glinted off undeniably silvery hair, and the familiar smirk appeared as gray eyes swept over the dark-haired boy still on the ground. The two stared at each other silently.

"Have you forgotten how to speak, Potter?" The cultured sneer in that voice made Harry start, and he flushed, realizing that he had just been sitting there staring at his archenemy like an idiot.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he growled, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach.

"I'm flying, obviously," Draco gestured to his broom--and indeed, he was floating still. "A better question would be what are you doing here, staring at me like the drooling idiot you pretend not to be?"

Harry glared, anger making him silent as he jerkily mounted his broomstick and pushed off from the ground. He looked around and narrowed his eyes. "I'll race you." Harry murmured.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "That was a quick change of subject. Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me?"

"I'm going to beat you. To that tree." As soon as he pointed it out, Harry sped toward the target, glancing over to the side and noting that Draco was right beside him, sleek and intent, as they urged their brooms to go ever faster. Their breathing synchronized and the world froze around them. The only things existing were the two of them and the tree. Harry's eyes narrowed--he _would_ win this race. Draco eyes darted abruptly upward and he gave a surprised yell, disappearing suddenly as his broom fell to the field. Harry blinked and cried out an instant later, dropping his broom as his robes got caught on thick, brown tree branches.

"Bloody hell!" Draco spat, dangling next to Harry, his face a mask of anger as he struggled against the branches holding him. Harry choked back a laugh, and Draco glared at him. "It's your fault we're stuck!"

"If we'd been looking where we were going..."

"I--I was!" Draco pushed vainly at the tree branches. "It's not my fault the branches were obscuring the way to the goal!"

Harry shook his head, shaking slightly with his laughter, although he knew that he should be trying to find a way out of the situation. Dangling in a tree from some unknown height wasn't exactly the best time to have a fit of giggles.

Draco shot a glance at Harry, his eyes showing that he obviously doubted the sanity of his rival. He struggled to reach his wand, lunging forward with a grunt. "Aha!" Harry glanced at Draco, and Draco arched his eyebrow again. "I am never without my wand, Potter. _Wingardium Leviosa_!" Draco floated safely to the ground, smirking at Harry, who was still stuck.

"You can't leave me hanging here, Malfoy!" Harry shouted down at him, and Draco's smirk grew wider.

"Oh, I could...but a _gentleman_ never leaves his fellows...hanging. _Divello_ robe!" Harry waved his arms about in a panic as his robe shredded at the places where it was caught, and he went hurtling towards the ground. Draco yelped as Harry landed directly on him, and they fell down in a tumble of limbs.

"Whew!" Harry panted. "Thanks for breaking my fall, Malfoy."

"Will you get _off_ me, Potter?!" Draco pushed angrily at Harry's shoulder, blowing strands of hair out of his face. Before he could stop himself, Harry tenderly brushed the argent-colored gossamer away from Draco's forehead. Draco caught Harry's wrist, and they stared silently at each other once more. Draco did have beautiful eyes...

"Potter?" Once again, Draco was the first to break the quiet.

"Yes?" Harry asked, his voice slightly breathless.

"Getting off me would be nice."

 _But...I don't want to_ , Harry thought as he jerked away from Draco and sat up. He went down in a heap as Draco pushed him from behind, landing face first in the dirt and losing his glasses in the process. When Harry finally found his glasses and pushed his way back to sitting, he found Draco smugly touching the tree.

"I win."

"You bloody wanker!" Harry stood up and brushed at his robes absently. "You cheated!"

Draco negligently waved his hand in the air, dismissing Harry's comment. "That doesn't matter. I won. That's what's important."

"Whatever happened to fair play?" Harry wondered as he stalked toward Draco, glaring.

"Fair play?" Draco looked artfully innocent. " _Oh_ , that must be one of those odd Gryffindor notions."

"Argh!" Harry tackled Draco, and they fell over again, pushing at each other and yelping in pain as elbows and knees got in the way of stomachs and chins. After a moment of the tussle, Harry triumphantly tossed his hair out of his eyes, pinning Draco securely beneath him.

"Let go, Potter." Draco growled, struggling beneath the stronger boy and trying to tug his wrists out of Harry's grip.

"Now, _what_ was that about fair play?" Harry asked with a grin, looking down smugly at Draco.

"It's a notion that overly noble Gryffindor Seekers believes exists!" Draco's eyes flared silver. "Gryffindors never get what they want because they aren't willing to do whatever is necessary to get their goal--it's a well-known fact!"

"Oh, really?" Harry stared down at Draco, swallowing in nervousness. This was what he wanted--Draco's eyes flashing silver with annoyance, leaves and blades of grass tangled in the mass of his normally perfect hair, flushed and squirming beneath him.

"Yes, really!" Draco glared up at Harry. "Now, _if_ you please, let me go--" Harry's mouth crashed down inexpertly onto Draco's, taking advantage of the fact that his mouth was open to lick at Draco's lip. Draco tasted of honey and tea, and Harry groaned, letting go of Draco's hands as he pulled Draco closer to him. Everything was hot and wet, and Harry experimentally ran his tongue against Draco's teeth, enjoying the feeling of smoothness that contrasted with the fever of Draco himself. He heard Draco whimper, felt those pale, aristocratic hands tangling with the fabric on his shoulders, kneading like a cat. Oh, yes...this was what he wanted...

Draco ripped away from his embrace, pushing at Harry frantically, scrambling up from the ground. His hair was tousled, rippling in waves over the nape of his neck, a few stubborn strands cascading over his forehead as he panted, his wide eyes pinned to Harry, who was still kneeling on the ground.

"What the _fuck_!?" Draco gasped, his chest heaving with each breath. Draco's eyes were wide with shock, and his fingers drifted up slowly to touch lips that were bruised and slightly swollen from Harry's kiss. Harry blushed furiously, standing up and backing away in horror. What had he _done_? Merlin, Ron was going to _kill_ him when he found out! If Malfoy didn't kill him, first...

"Well," Harry swallowed as he stared at Draco. "I was taking what I wanted--that's what you were saying, right?" Harry smiled and took a step toward Draco. Draco backed up. "And besides, your hair was messy, and you looked...kissable."

Draco stared at him incomprehensibly. "You are...so wrong..." Draco turned tail and ran towards the castle, his robes flapping in the breeze.

 _That went...well_ , Harry thought, staring after Draco. _He didn't try to kill me...that's good._ He smiled, his fingers drifting up to touch his own mouth. Draco had kissed back. _Do you think I'm going to stop now, Draco?_ He wondered silently. _I'm not afraid of getting what I want...after all; the Sorting Hat DID almost put me in Slytherin..._ Harry noticed a glint on the ground, and his smile grew wider as he picked up Draco's forgotten wand.

His mood had greatly improved.

Harry thoughtfully put Draco's broom in the Quidditch supplies shed and wandered back up to the Gryffindor common room, that smile still playing on his lips.

"Feeling better, are you?" Ron asked eagerly, taking Harry's entrance as the opportunity to shut the book that Hermione was making him study.

"Yeah, Ron," Harry grinned. "You can't imagine how good I feel right now..."

"Well, I'm glad you worked yourself out."

"So am I, Ron. So am I."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry smoothed his hair back a final, futile time and fiddled nervously with Draco's wand. He hadn't come back for it--fortunately, it was Saturday, so it wasn't needed for classes...but...he hadn't come back. Was Harry wrong?

"Come on!" Ron declared, looking longingly at the door. "If you keep primping, we'll miss dinner!"

"I'm _not_ primping, Ron! Jeez!" Harry stomped his way down the stairs with Ron who kept up the chatter as they continued to the dining hall.

"Sure you're not. You remind me of Percy right before he asked Penelope out!" Ron chuckled. "Come on, you can tell me--who is she?"

"No one! Drop it, Ron!"

"Okay, okay. You don't have to yell." They sat down at the Gryffindor table, and Harry continued to ignore everyone, keeping an eye out for a particularly hard-to-find blonde Slytherin. Draco finally came storming in, a faint line of worry between his eyebrows.

"No, I don't know where my wand is, Vincent, otherwise, I _would_ help you," he was telling Crabbe as they sat down in their corner of the table. Harry stood up and walked over to the Slytherin table, noting the lack of conversation and the air of anticipation falling over the room as he made his way closer to Draco.

"Are you missing this, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he brandished Draco's wand. The Slytherin table went deathly quiet.

"My wand!" Draco burst out involuntarily. His eyes narrowed. "How did you get it?"

"Remember--today on the Quidditch field? You left it behind? After saving me from the tree?" Draco pinkened slightly at Harry's words, and Harry grinned slightly, feeling the weight of the students' eyes on them in full force.

"Give it back, Potter."

"Certainly." Harry handed Draco his wand, and Draco looked at him suspiciously. Feeling generous, Harry leaned close enough to whisper to Draco, quietly enough so that no one at the Slytherin table would be able to hear what he said. "Don't I get a kiss? It's only fair..." Draco's fist connected solidly with Harry's jaw, but before there could be any uproar from the Gryffindor table, Harry burst out laughing. "The look on your face!!" Harry chortled, working his jaw in an attempt to make the pain go away.

Gasping out a final chuckle before taking a deep, calming breath, Harry stepped away from Draco, eyeing him speculatively before running his hand quickly through Draco's hair. "I liked you better when your hair was messy." Draco flushed a deep red, and Harry nonchalantly went back to the Gryffindor table, taking his seat with a bright smile. He looked curiously at his silent housemates. "Will someone please pass the mashed potatoes? I'm hungry."

The conversation flooded back immediately, and he looked over at Ron and Hermione, who were looking back at him with the same intent expression on their faces. " _HIM_?" Harry shrugged, smiled, and continued to eat.


	2. Chapter 2

Days went by, as Harry concocted plan after plan in order to get Draco alone again. He tried another race, but Draco sneered at him and went inside to study potions. He tried passing notes to Draco in class, but all he got was detention when Draco made them explode, and then blamed him for it happening. He even enlisted the Weasley twins to help him... but their plan ended up covering Draco in a bright green goo that turned his hair pink.

Harry sighed despondently. No wonder the Sorting Hat didn't put him in Slytherin--none of his plans _worked_! He was doing better when he tackled Draco in the field! _Maybe I should just give up._

"Harry?" Harry glanced up at Hermione and looked away again.

"Yes?"

"Is this--I mean, are you--really?" Hermione shook her head and sighed. "I mean, this thing with Draco--are you serious?"

"Yeah, 'Mione. I'm serious."

"Then...why don't you stop messing with him and tell him how you feel?"

"Well, that's...that's a girly thing." Harry muttered. "He should know. I _kissed_ him."

"You _kissed_ him!?" Hermione shouted, drawing the attention of the rest of the common room.

"Oh, thanks, Hermione. Just shout it out as loud as you can--I don't think Professor _Snape_ in the _DUNGEONS_ heard you clearly enough!"

"You _kissed_ him?" Fred and George synchronized, crossing the room and plopping themselves down on a couch as they looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"Bollocks!" Harry shouted, slamming his fists down onto the windowsill he was sitting next to. "None of you are even taking me _seriously_! Why would I be joking about liking Draco? And now--he got turned _pink_! He's _never_ going to want to even talk to me!"

"Well...Harry...." Hermione began slowly. "If you really like him that much, but you can't tell him like a _normal_ person...why don't you find something he likes?"

"Something he likes?" Harry frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Well, Draco liked potions... gardens ... Quidditch... and he was always reading something, Harry had discovered....

"Forget about that!" George waved a hand in front of Harry's face, drawing the boy's attention to him and his twin again. "Tell us the important stuff! What was it like, kissing _Malfoy_? The demanding public wants to know!"

"What it was like to kiss Draco...?" Harry stared out the window, his green eyes cloudy with remembrance as he reached up to touch his mouth. Fire and honey...a burning ache and sweet torture...feeling that lithe body beneath him, pressed against him so tightly, so _right_...

"Harry? _Harry_?" Fred waved his hand in front of Harry's face, and Harry started, blinking his eyes in confusion as a blush crept up his neck.

"Wow," George grinned. "Malfoy must have been one hell of a--"

Harry grabbed George's wrist, his emerald eyes flaring brightly. "Be quiet. He's mine, George."

George raised an eyebrow, a cocky grin appearing on his lips. "Says who?"

"Says--"

"Will you _stop_ it?" Hermione asked in exasperation. "Harry, George is teasing you-don't get so serious. But I _do_ have a question." Harry nodded, and Hermione continued. "Do you like him?"

"Hermione!" A sigh gusted out of Harry, and he looked at her irritably. "What have I been _telling_ you? Mer--"

"Harry, we've established one thing. You _want_ him. But physical desire is not the same thing as _caring_ for him."

"Caring? For Draco?" Harry frowned. "You know, I wonder if there is anything to care for in him, really. He's a spoiled, egotistical little brat!"

Hermione slammed her books down, her face pale. "My god, Harry! Why the hell are you even chasing after him, then? What happens if you succeed? What happens if he falls _in love_ with you? Are you just going to drop him the instant you fall out of lust?"

Harry blinked. What would happen if Draco actually ever admitted their attraction? "I... hadn't thought that far, actually..."

Hermione gaped at him, blinking in shock. Fred shrugged. "He's the Slytherin Slut, Herm. Do you actually expect him to have a personality? I mean, you wouldn't _believe_ some of the rumors--"

"Rumors? Rumors?" Hermione's mouth shut with a snap, her dark eyes darkening further with pure rage. "I never thought I'd say this," she said quietly, calmly. "But you--all of you--disgust me." She stood up silently and walked to the door, shutting it with a soft click behind her.

"Women!" George muttered in disgust.

Harry frowned. "Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm doing this for the wrong reasons. Why am I doing this?"

"Still, she didn't--"

"--need to get so mad."

At the same time, the Weasley twins froze, heads turning toward each other in surprised realization.

"Hey," Ron poked his head through the hole in the wall. "What's up with Herm? She ran by me at, like, a hundred miles a minute!"

"Hey, you don't think--" Fred began.

"--that Hermione might--" George continued.

"--like Draco, _too_?" They shouted in unison.

" _What_?" Ron shouted, falling into the room. "Are you _crazy_ "

Harry shook his head. "She wouldn't. She likes Ron."

"She does?" Ron flushed brightly, glancing back the way he came.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's obvious, Ron!" He sighed, running a hand through his hair and heading toward the door. "I'll be out for a while, okay?" Harry vanished through the door, passing Colin Creevey on his way out.

"What's up with him?" Harry heard Colin's voice trail out as he stomped his way down the stairs.

 _What's up with me_? Harry wondered furiously. _What's_ not _up with me? But, really, Hermione's right. I can't just keep chasing after him like a bitch in heat..._ Harry trailed his way down through the halls, unconsciously looking around for a pale head of hair as he wandered. He turned around the corner and saw Blaise Zabini talking with Draco, fair hair shining with highlights from the sun. Draco was shining ethereally, almost blinding as his silvery hair reflected the sunlight and drew all the attention from the other boy. Blaise glanced out of the corner of his eye at Harry and laughed, pounding Draco's back. Draco pulled away from Blaise with a glare, his eyes flaring wide as he shot his glance down the hall, locking onto Harry with something slightly akin to panic.

"Fuck off." Draco sneered at Zabini, his eyes flickering to the possible exits of the hallway.

Harry quickened his pace slightly, straining to hear their conversation. Blaise leaned close to Draco, pressing against the other blonde smugly. "Why are you so worried, Malfoy?" Blaise murmured at Draco, arching his eyebrow. "Is the Golden Boy going to melt the Ice Prince?" He looked directly at Harry as he smirked, his hands drifting down to grab Draco's ass.

Harry narrowed his eyes in anger, and his jaw clenched as he drew closer to the two other boys.

Draco flinched, shoving Blaise away. "Fuck off, Zabini! Don't touch me again!"

Blaise's smirk widened, and he stepped away, his eyes flickering over Draco appreciatively. "Did I muss the Draco Malfoy Perfection? Please, do forgive me. Although," he continued, glancing slyly at Draco. "I'm beginning to believe that you just enjoy being chased. I don't think you're worth all the effort everyone puts into you."

"Get away from him, Zabini," Harry growled, clenching his hands into fists.

Draco's eyes iced over and the boy glared, raising his chin as he brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "I can take care of myself, Potter." Draco hissed. "I don't need _you_."

Blaise laughed, backing away. "I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Blaise turned and made his way down the hall, shaking his fair head in amusement.

Draco's eyes darted right and left, desperately looking for an exit as students flowed around them.

"Draco?" Harry suddenly felt shy, looking down at his rival hesitantly.

"Did I give you permission to use my name?" Draco asked coolly.

Harry ignored Draco's words. "Can I talk to you in private?"

"Why?" Draco stiffened, adding in a softer tone, "I _remember_ what happened _last_ time we were alone. I'm not giving you the opportunity to molest me again."

"It isn't molestation if you like it, Malfoy." Harry declared clearly, a small smirk twisting his mouth. Draco cringed, his eyes darting around again before he grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him into an empty classroom. "What are you--"

Draco shushed him, stalking around the classroom to ascertain their privacy before he whirled around to face his enemy. "I _didn't_ like it. I don't know what you're trying to do, Potter, but whatever it is, I'm not falling for it."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Harry leaned against the wall.

"You're trying to humiliate me!" Draco said instantly. "You're trying to ruin my life!"

"No, Draco!" Harry pulled away from the wall, his eyes wide. "That's not it at all!"

"Oh? Then what _are_ you trying to do?"

"I--I'm trying to get the feeling back." Harry flushed, stepping closer to Draco.

"The _feeling_?" Draco's eyes were skeptical as he sneered, stepping back as Harry advanced.

"Yes." Harry took another step forward. Draco took another step back, stumbling as he ran into a desk. " _This_ feeling." Harry raised his hand and ran his fingertips over Draco's mouth, gently brushing up his cheek and caressing the outline of Draco's hair. Draco inhaled sharply, freezing as Harry leaned closer, nuzzling at the soft hollow just below Draco's ear. Harry breathed in the other boy's scent, pulling him closer as he ran his fingers through the silky strands of silvery hair.

"Potter?" Draco choked out.

"Yes?" Harry's eyes glowed, transfixed on Draco's speeding pulse, his tongue darting out to wet dry lips.

Draco swallowed. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

Harry blinked, frowning as Draco's words penetrated his lust-fogged brain. Talking. He was supposed to be _talking_. He straightened, taking a step back. In an instant, Draco darted past Harry and whirled around, keeping the desk between them.

" _You_ stay on _that_ side, Potty!" Draco sneered, and Harry struggled against a smile.

"Why are you always running away from me, Draco? Do I frighten you?"

"A Malfoy isn't scared of anything!" Draco retorted with a glare, which was spoiled as he blew a strand of hair out of his eye. "And quit calling me that!"

"Quit calling you what? Draco? What should I call you then?" Harry leaned forward in what he hoped was a seductive manner. "Lover, perhaps?"

Draco made a choked, indignant sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head violently.

Harry found that noise unbelievably sexy.

"All right, then," he acquiesced. "What kind of things do you like to do?"

Draco gaped. "What?"

"Hermione pointed out to me that lust is not necessarily a good thing by itself, so I want to get to know you."

Draco's jaw dropped further. "You wanted me alone so you could _chat me up_?"

"I want to know more about you. What kind of things do you like to do? What kind of books are you always reading? What do you do in your spare time?" Harry watched Draco carefully. "I want to know why I think you're funny-why I can pick your voice out of a room crowded with people-"

"…you can?" Draco leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable.

"By Circe! I don't know why you're acting so virginal! I can't be the first one who's said something like this before!" Harry waited impatiently for Draco to admit that he _was_ acting, that he'd gone through this before so that Harry could have a reason to get angry, but his only answer was silence. He turned to find a beet red Draco looking down at his shoes. Then it clicked. "No one has, have they?" he breathed in realization before looking shyly at the blonde boy. "Were…were you waiting for me?"

Draco snorted. "You are a disgusting romantic. You do know that, don't you, Potter?" Draco tugged yet another strand of hair behind his ear, and Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You keep playing with your hair." Harry stared intently as Draco's elegant hand gracefully pushed back the bright strands and smiled. "You aren't wearing any of that gross wax stuff today!"

Draco paused. "What are you blabbering about?"

"Your _hair_." Harry breathed, widening his eyes.

"I didn't have enough time!" Draco hedged.

"So says the boy who probably gets up an hour earlier than his roommates just so he can look perfect? I don't think so. You're wearing your hair like that for _me_!"

"Wha-Potter, are you daft? I have better things to do than-" Harry pushed the desk to the side and stepped closer, his eyes a fiery jade. "Potter-stay away-"

"Or what, Malfoy? Are you going to curse me?" With a silent apology to Hermione, Harry pushed Draco against the wall, burying his hands in that tantalizingly vivid hair, nipping at the juncture of Draco's neck and shoulder just to feel the shiver run through Draco's slight frame. "I don't think you will. You want this as much as I do."

"Get off me, Potter!" Draco shoved at Harry's shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about! I was out of--!"

"I thought you said you didn't have the time?"

Silver eyes were wide in sudden astonishment, his face crimson. "I-I-I ahh! My _god_ , a _Malfoy_ is _not_ manhandled like this! I demand that you release me at once! Do you hear me, Potter? Let me go, or I swear-"

"Fuck talking," Harry declared, yanking Draco's head back and sucking on the furiously beating pulse in the blonde boy's throat. One arm wrapped around Draco's waist to drag him close, their bodies perfectly aligned as Harry trailed burning kisses up the column of Draco's neck, biting at the fleshy lobe of Draco's ear. Draco made another small sound, and Harry chuckled, his breath warm against Draco's skin as yet another shiver ran through the blonde. "I'm going to be your first--your first _everything_." Harry murmured, his voice raw. He detected a rising flush on Draco's skin, the fair boy feverish under his touch. "No one else, Malfoy." Harry pulled back slightly and looked intently into Draco's burnished, tempestuous eyes. Harry stroked Draco's hair gently, leaning close as his tongue flicked out to brush the sensitive place just below Draco's ear. " _You're mine_."

Moonstone met emerald as Draco relaxed ever so slightly against Harry, his tongue darting out unconsciously to wet his lips. Harry groaned and captured the damp pink lips with his own, inhaling Draco's breath as his tongue ran lightly over Draco's quivering bottom lip, tasting-demanding response and receiving it as Draco's mouth parted, hesitantly extending the invitation for more. Harry's tongue flickered over Draco's, coaxing playfully as they tangled together, drifting apart to explore the moist heat of their mouths. Draco caught Harry's tongue between his teeth and sucked gently as he mewled, melting completely against Harry and tangling his fingers in Harry's locks, his thigh nudging in between Harry's legs in an effort to get impossibly closer. The fire of their lips spiraled down into an ache, and Harry thrust against Draco, a gasp escaping both of them as their erections rubbed against each other through the layers of their robes.

"Oh, gods," Harry murmured against Draco's mouth, pushing aside the dark robe to place his hands against Draco's blazing skin, deaf to the sound of ripping fabric. "You're killing me..."

"Yes," Draco moaned, clutching at Harry's shoulders. "Oh... Transfiguration!! Shit!!" His eyes suddenly snapped open in horror, and he jolted, his knee shooting straight up against Harry's groin. Harry went down with a groan and Draco stared down at him, smoothing down his robes. "Come on, Potter! We're late for class! Get up!" Draco nudged him with the toe of his boot. "You have to get up!!"

"That fucking hurt, Malfoy!" Harry spat, his eyes scrunched shut as he attempted to get to his feet.

"McGonagall's going to fucking hurt _us_ if we're any later!" Draco stomped his foot and headed toward the door. "Fuck! People are going to be wondering where we were!"

"Why don't we just tell them the truth?" Harry suggested, getting up and adopting a lopsided gait in an attempt to keep up with Draco.

"Oh, that's bloody brilliant, Potter!" Draco drawled, scarcely out of breath. "Professor McGonagall, I have a confession to make. The reason I've been so jumpy around your favorite student is because he stole my first kiss in the Quidditch field, and I've just spent the last god-knows-how-long in an abandoned classroom with him. What was I doing with him Professor McGonagall? I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. I _do_ have an image to uphold."

Harry laughed, smothering the sound as Draco glared at him.

"It's not _funny_!" Draco insisted, stopping abruptly and righting his clothing a final time. "Laugh now, Potter, but we _both_ have to walk into that classroom." That effectively quieted Harry, and they walked into the class.

McGonagall looked up from her desk, as well as every single student who had been working on their class work. "Where have you two been?"

"I don't know where Potter has been," Draco lied smoothly. "But I was in my dorm studying potions. I lost track of time."

McGonagall sighed. "15 points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy. Please watch the time when you study from now on?" Draco nodded and headed toward his seat in the back. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Why is your robe ripped?"

Draco blinked, looking incredulously at his ripped sleeve. His eyes darted to Harry for a moment before he looked at McGonagall with calculated innocence. "I don't know, Professor. I must have caught it on something on the way here." He sat down quickly and gathered his supplies on his desk.

"And you, Mr. Potter?"

"I-I" Harry blushed, running a hand through his messier-than-usual hair. "I was taking a walk around the grounds, and I-I forgot."

McGonagall's mouth tightened in disapproval. "15 points from Gryffindor as well, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you and Mr. Malfoy should be more careful judging the time needed for your activities." Harry flushed crimson and muttered an apology before going to his seat, keeping his eyes adverted from everyone as he got his supplies out on his desk.

After a moment, a scrap of paper magically appeared on his desk. He glanced surreptitiously around at his fellow students before unfolding the piece of parchment.

 _That was so smooth, Potter. Really. Your inability to lie amazes me._

Harry contemplated his response for a moment and grinned, scribbling his answer down.

 _I don't lie, Malfoy.  
P. S.  
You tasted good._

With a puff, the parchment was gone, and Harry cautiously watched Draco, who opened the note as soon as it appeared and turned furiously scarlet. He crumpled the note and shoved it into his pocket, turning to write energetically on his class work. With no forthcoming note, Harry shrugged and turned to his own.

"What happened?" Ron hissed, leaning over to Harry.

"A good thing happened," Harry smiled. "A good thing."

"You look like you just got snogged, Harry!"

Harry's smile deepened. "Wouldn't you think of that as a good thing?"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed from his other side. "What happened to _talking_?"

"Well, I tried," Harry looked apologetically at Hermione. "It's just--well--did you know he's really _hot_?"

Ron made a face, looking towards the studiously indifferent Draco. "That's just demented Harry." Ron shook his head, his eyebrows wrinkling together. "Just... demented."

Harry agreed silently, and all three returned to their work.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry felt like he was floating on air, replaying that moment with Draco in the classroom over and over again. It had been everything he imagined; it was _better_ than he'd ever dreamed-with the exception of getting kneed in the balls, of course. But Harry was positive that _that_ had been an accident. Well, mostly an accident. Merlin, what if it _hadn't_ been an accident? What if-

"Harry, what's wrong? You're hyperventilating." Hermione touched his shoulder, startled when he whirled around, his eyes boring into hers anxiously.

"'Mione, what if he _meant_ to do that?" he wailed as they entered the Gryffindor common room.

"What if he meant to do _what_?" Hermione's face turned calculating as she paused for a moment. "Harry, what happened before Transfiguration _exactly_?"

"Well, I-er-" Harry flushed, looking around at the empty common room. "You see-" He paused as he saw Seamus and Dean walking down the dormitory stairs. "'Mione-"

"Harry snogged the Slytherin git, obviously," Ron declared, entering the conversation and the common room irritably. "He told us as much."

"Harry _what_?" Seamus cried in disbelief, dragging Dean after him. "What's this about snogging and Slytherins?"

"Ron-" Harry declared, furiously red. "Please!"

"Harry here's crushing on Malfoy," Ron ignored Harry, turning to their dorm mates. "Today, Harry _and_ the Bouncing Ferret were late to class. He implied that they were late because they were together."

"You molested Malfoy again, didn't you, Harry? That's why his robe was ripped." Hermione deduced, her eyes darkening quickly as her lips compressed to a thin line. "What did I tell you-"

"What haven't you told me, 'Mione?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at her. "I tried to talk with him, honestly! I tried to tell him how I felt, but he was so close, and-and his hair was glowing and loose, and-excuse me, but I'm really attracted to him, and I wanted to touch him and I think that sometimes actions speak louder than words and I've proven that theory, I think, because all you and Ron do is talk and glance at each other and you two haven't gotten anywhere, and I haven't talked to Draco very much, but I've kissed him twice and it was wonderful and amazing and he knows exactly how I feel-"

Harry paused to take a breath, and Seamus burst out laughing. "You've got it bad!" he chortled.

"Please tell me I heard wrong!" Harry heard Angelina Johnson say. "You've kissed _Malfoy_ twice?" Harry jumped guiltily and looked around. During his impassioned speech, he hadn't realized that several more Gryffindors had made their way into the common room, and all of them were staring at Harry in shock. Harry hid his head in his hands. "Please tell me I didn't blurt my secret out to the entire Gryffindor House."

"You didn't blurt out your secret to the entire Gryffindor House," Fred said easily, looping an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Just about a third of it."

Harry's cheeks flamed, and he made a choking gasp in the back of his throat before running to the stairs and disappearing into the boys' dorm.

"It's not that bad, Harry!" George called after him, and then shrugged. "Honestly, what do you two thi-" he turned toward Ron and Hermione, who were staring at each other in disbelief. "Oh, bother." George walked off as Ron edged closer to Hermione.

"Do you-" they burst out at the same time, and fell silent, looking at the ground.

"I think Harry was right about one thing," Ron ventured bashfully.

"Was he?" Hermione answered quietly.

"Sometimes, actions are louder than words." With that quiet comment, Ron leaned over and brushed his lips over Hermione's. "Herm, I know it was wrong of me to ask you as a last resort to the Yule Ball last year," he declared as she froze, stunned. "But…I really was jealous of Krum… and I really do like you."

Hermione flushed prettily and kissed him back. "It's taken you long enough to realize that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco threw himself on his bed, drawing the curtains around him with a muttered spell. It was official. He was completely insane. To fall for _Harry Potter_ , of all people. Why the hell couldn't it be one of the Slytherins who were always after him? Or one of the Ravenclaws? He had recognized his obsession with the Gryffindor early, but he never thought it would turn physical. And the worst thing was that he didn't care. Draco touched his mouth, still feeling the lingering warmth of Harry's breath on his lips. He didn't give a damn.

Bonkers.

Absolutely mad.

Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he jumped in startlement as he felt a hand smooth over his thigh. Blaise's eyes glowed sapphire in the darkness.

"Oh. It's you." Draco muttered, pushing Blaise's hand away. "Can't you sneak into someone else's bed for a change?"

"I don't want anyone else." Blaise edged up Draco's body, and Draco struggled against the temptation to punch the other boy. He settled for rolling his eyes.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." Blaise purred, and Draco found himself suddenly curious. He hadn't lied to Harry when he said that he'd never done anything before, and now he wondered whether the strength of his reaction to his rival was merely latent sexuality. Maybe it would be just as good with someone else. Blaise lowered his head and nibbled lightly on Draco's neck. Draco waited expectantly for the shivers, the path of fiery sensation to follow Blaise's lips, but nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. When Blaise's tongue dipped out of his mouth to brush Draco's collarbone, Draco's skin _crawled_. Blaise's tongue felt like a slug. A very hot, drooling, slug.

"Zabini, get the hell off me."

Blaise's head reared up, eyes narrowed to angry slits. "What?"

"I said get the hell off of me, Zabini."

"Oh, so I'm not good enough to fuck Draco Malfoy, is that it?" Blaise pushed himself up furiously, his eyes glittering as a muscle twitched in his jaw.

Draco inwardly sighed. There were days when the rumor of his sexual godhood was just too much of a burden. "What made you think," Draco asked conversationally, his words under-hinted with a touch of ice. "That a fence-sitting _Zabini_ would ever be good enough for a _Malfoy_?" Blaise flushed red, and then paled, his fists clenched so hard that blood was starting to slide down his palm from the crescent marks of his fingernails. "If you're going to bleed, Zabini, do it out of my bed. Blood is so difficult to get out of satin."

"You'll regret this, Malfoy," Blaise hissed, and retreated from Draco's bed.

 _I sincerely doubt that_ , Draco sighed to himself, and sat up. And now he felt sick. _I want to see Harry_. Draco blinked. _And I can't believe I just thought that._

Draco threw the curtains back and reached for his cloak. He really needed a walk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was thoroughly disgusted with his housemates. All of them offering to help set him up with Draco. What was their problem? He could get a guy on his own, thank you very much. He made his way down to the lake, grinning as he saw a familiar figure lying on the shore. _It really is amazing how much we run into each other_. Harry thought as he plopped down next to Draco. "Hello, Draco."

Draco pried an eye open and flopped onto his stomach, mumbling something into the fabric of his cloak.

Harry leaned closer, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "What did you say?"

Draco pushed himself up and looked at Harry haughtily. "I _said_ , oh, look, just who I wanted to see."

"I wanted to see you too!" Harry answered cheerfully.

"Potter." Draco lay on his back and looked up at the other boy. "Do you know the meaning of sarcasm?"

"Yes, I do. _Malfoy_. I just don't think it counts anymore." Harry tilted his head. "What's got you in such a bad mood?"

"I'm not going to kiss you again." Draco frowned up at him.

"Is that what's bothering you so much?" Harry asked innocently, "Because if it is, please let me remedy the problem." Harry quickly bent down and tasted Draco's bottom lip, pulling the unresisting boy into his arms. Harry raised his head and grinned down at Draco, delighted with how pliant he was in his embrace. "You know, if you don't want me to kiss you, you need to make me believe it. This whole boneless thing? Not believing."

"Ugh." Draco shut his eyes tightly. "It's true."

"What's true?"

"I'm attracted to you. And I don't even have the decency to feel ill about it."

"Thanks…I think. When did you crawl out of your denial?"

"Blaise Zabini tried to seduce me earlier today."

"I'm going to kill him." Harry dropped Draco and struggled halfway up before Draco jerked sharply on Harry's sleeve, pulling him down onto the dirt.

"You are not. I can take care of myself, thank you very much." Draco glared at Harry, who had the probity to look abashed.

"Sorry."

" _Anyway_ , he had the disgusting urge to lick my neck. And it was like a snail. Or a slug. Wet and slimy." Draco shuddered. "Yuck."

"Okay." Harry looked sternly at Draco. "He only touched your neck, right?"

Draco arched his eyebrow. "He touched my leg, too. Why?"

"Because _I_ haven't touched your leg yet!" Harry declared in an outraged whisper.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Draco shook his head. "I don't understand you, Potter."

"I _told_ you that you were _mine_. No one else can just… _touch_ you."

"And I thought I was insane."

"I'm not insane, I'm obsessed." Harry brushed a hand along Draco's thigh, unknowingly following Blaise's path, and then cupped Draco's head, exposing his throat to a sharp bite.

"Shit, Potter! Are you a vampire or something?" Draco demanded, and then relaxed again as Harry peppered his skin with butterfly kisses. Draco gave a small sigh and tangled his fingers in Harry's mass of hair, stroking the rough strands. Harry darted his tongue out to taste Draco's flesh, and the other boy closed his eyes and arched into the touch.

Harry pulled away with a grin. "So, does _my_ tongue feel like a slug when I lick you?"

"No," Draco answered in a drowsy, pleased tone. "No, you don't feel like a slug at all."

Harry brushed Draco's mussed hair away from his forehead. Sunlight danced on Draco's silvery tresses, tingeing the eyelashes of closed lids gold. Between the black of his robes and the verdant green of the grass he was laying on, Draco was displayed perfectly, like a jewel amidst velvet. "You're so beautiful, Draco." Harry whispered, his fingers brushing down Draco's cheek.

Draco smiled lazily, his eyes diamond-bright in the fading half light. "I know," he drawled. "But feel free to say it as often as you like. I wouldn't mind a'toll."

"Are we flirting?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco gave Harry a superior look. " _I_ am flirting, Potter. You're trying to hit me over the head with a club so you can drag me back to your tower."

Harry laughed and laid on his back, watching as the sun continued it's decent to meet the horizon. _Now is as good a time as any to talk, right?_ He asked himself, and traced a pattern into the ground beside him with his finger. "What's your home like, Draco?"

"My home?" Draco paused. "It's a mansion. The foyer is made of silver veined black marble-magically created, of course-and Mother has the most wonderful gardens. She grows narcissi flowers, and gardenias, and all sorts of things. That's her territory. The manor itself is made of stone, you know, because in the old days it was a castle. It still has some hidden passageways that were created for people to get out of the castle should they be attacked and had to run without their wand. And I can't forget the moat." Draco tilted his head and grinned. "Then there's the hexes for trespassers, and the fully functional dungeon." Draco frowned in thought. "I do wish my father would soundproof the walls, though. The screams always keep me awake at night."

"Screams?" Harry blinked in disbelief. "Your father _tortures_ people?"

Draco waved it away negligently. "It's a dungeon. What else do you expect my father to do, host tea parties there? It's the perfect place to torture Mudbloods and the like-"

"Don't say that word around me." Harry declared tightly, clenching his fist at his side.

Draco glanced at him curiously, and shrugged. "That's right. I forgot for a moment that you're a Muggle lover."

"Why do you make it sound like it's a bad thing?" Harry wondered quietly.

"You're talking to a Pureblood, Potter." Draco pointed out. "A pureblooded aristocrat. It _is_ a bad thing." Draco settled himself with a grin. "You know, I can trace my ancestry all the way back for 800 years. Not once have we had a Mud-" Draco glanced at Harry's tense expression. "-ggle-born in our family."

Harry felt a smile twitch on his lips. "A Mudggle-born. Well, that would explain your inbred, pointy looks, huh?"

"Hey!" Draco sat up and threw a handful of grass at Harry. "Apparently, you seem to like the inbred pointy looks, so be quiet."

"I hope you know that just because I like you doesn't mean that I'll do what you say on demand."

"Well, hell." Draco pouted, shaking his head. "And I was so hoping for that particular benefit." Draco looked up at the stars that were beginning to show and stood up. "It's time to go back in for dinner, Potter."

"Why are you still calling me Potter?" Harry asked in annoyance as he stood up. "My name is Harry. Call me that."

"All right…Harry." Without any malice in that voice, Harry's name spilled like raw silk from Draco's lips, and Harry suddenly found himself glued to that mouth, drinking in that sound as he pulled Draco closer. This time, Draco responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck. They pulled apart at the same time and smiled tentatively at each other.

"Well." Harry said, flustered by his reaction to Draco's kiss. _I wonder if there's a record for getting it up, because I think I just broke it_.

"Well." Draco answered, his cheeks flushed. "I think we have this kissing thing down. I'm not sure I like you though. This could just be, you know, physical attraction?"

"Maybe." Harry declared. "I suppose it's possible."

"Hey, why don't you come over to my dorm tomorrow? I've got the coolest thing from my father via owl post!" Draco leaned close to whisper in Harry's ear. "The password to the dorm is 'Dormiens'." Draco looked at Harry shiftily. "We're changing the password after tomorrow, so don't think you can do any weird things to my housemates with the password, okay?"

"I'm a Gryffindor, Draco. I don't do things like that." Harry declared defensively.

Draco choked on his sudden burst of laughter. "Mordred, what a lie! I'll see you tomorrow, then, Potter. A bien tot."

"A bean what?" Harry scratched his head in confusion.

Draco stopped. " _A bien tot_. See you later, in French. And don't scratch your head like that-you remind me of Crabbe."

The two boys cheerfully made their way back to the school, and they were so caught up in each other that they didn't notice the other figure following them back from the lake.


End file.
